


Shut up and dance

by Builder



Series: Heroverse [31]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Secrets, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19190644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: “Good morning, Steve, do you want to stop play fighting and tell me what’s really on your mind?Steve sighs.  “And this isn’t one of those answerless questions, I’m guessing.”“Not in your wildest dreams.”“Ok.  Fine.”  Steve exhales again.  “Jesus.”





	Shut up and dance

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @builder051

“Come on, you can do better than that,” Nat snaps, moving the paddle quickly from the vicinity of Steve’s knee up to his neck.  “You’re dead, Rogers.” She taps him on the shoulder with the red pleather-covered target. 

 

“Huh.”  Steve brushes one hand across the imaginary wound.  “Guess I am.”

 

“What’cha gonna do about it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, dropping his fists from his defensive position.  “I really don’t know.”

 

“Whoa, ok,” Nat removes the paddle’s strap from around her wrist and tosses it to the edge of the mat.  “That wasn’t supposed to have an answer.”

 

“Like, rhetorical?”  Steve screws up his eyes and scrubs at them with his knuckles.

 

“More like a joke,” Nat explains, her brows knitting together in the middle.  “But you wouldn’t recognize one of those if it danced naked in front of you.”

 

“What?”  Steve drops his hand, and Nat giggles, knowing exactly which word has stopped him in his tracks.  

 

“That was a joke too.  What’s wrong with you?”

 

“I-- nothing,” Steve says too quickly.  “I’m fine.” He forces a smile and drops his hand to his side.  The stillness only lasts a second, though, and he begins to pick at the band of tape wrapped around his wrist.  

 

“No, you’re not.”  Nat grabs him by the elbow and all but vanishes as she drops to seated on the cushioned floor of the sparring ring.  “Come’ere. Talk to me.”

 

Steve protests.  “I’m really ok,” he says, falling clumsily on one hip and struggling to right himself.  He tugs his arm out of Nat’s grip, then looks apologetic. “I just need a minute. A drink, maybe.”

 

“I thought beer didn’t do it for you anymore.”  Nat grins, but Steve’s too busy staring at the wrinkles in the mat to notice.

 

“No, I--”   
  


“It’s humor, Rogers.  More of it. Or am I only allowed one joke per day?”

 

“It’s fine,” Steve mumbles.  “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.  Nothing’s wrong with you.”  Nat smoothes the turned up cuff on the sleeve of his T-shirt.  “I’ve been told I don’t play well with others since I was about seven, but somehow I still forget.  Call it a character flaw.”

 

“Hey.”  Steve seems to re engage his reflexes as he catches her by the wrist.  “Stop that. The self-deprecating crap. ‘Cause that’s what it is, you know.  Crap.”

 

“Well, aren’t we a pair,” Nat laughs humorlessly.  “I will if you will.”

 

“Now, wait just one second--”

 

“Nope.  Time’s up.”  Nat pulls her hand out of his grip.  “This isn’t turning out so well. Let’s start over.”

 

Steve looks at her, puzzled, but Nat plows on.  “Good morning, Steve, do you want to stop play fighting and tell me what’s really on your mind?”

 

Steve sighs.  “And this isn’t one of those answerless questions, I’m guessing.”

 

“Not in your wildest dreams.”

 

“Ok.  Fine.”  Steve exhales again.  “Jesus.”

 

“Loves you, yes, I know,” Nat finishes quickly.  “Out with it.”

 

“It’s ‘this I know,’” Steve corrects, capitalizing on another chance to stall.

 

“Hey, I grew up in a world without religion,” Nat reminds him.  “I’m trying my best here.”

 

“I keep forgetting.  Probably unfair of me.”

 

“If you don’t shut up and tell me what’s bothering you, I’m going to punch you in the face.”  The effect is ruined when Nat flops onto her back, the cushioned mat sinking an inch or so around her shoulders.

 

“Ok, alright, fine.”  Steve lays down beside her, careful to keep a reasonable distance between their bodies.  “You know you’re the only person who asks me these things, right?”

 

“Of course I do.  Now out with it.”

 

Steve ignores her.  “I mean, Buck used to, but now…”  He shakes his head. “I’m a free agent.  I like it that way, but still, it’s…”

 

“Lonely?” Nat offers.

 

“No, the opposite,” Steve says.  “I-- you know how many people come try to talk to me about their problems?  Like, men who’ve cheated and regret it? Kids who stole something and are too scared to put it back?”

 

“Well, I guess you’re a soothing presence.”

 

“I guess,” Steve echoes in a monotone.  “Yeah. I mean, it’s good. I’m glad for them.”

 

Nat quickly fills in the gaps.  “But not so much for you.”

 

“I memorized the numbers for the crisis lines.  DV, eating disorders, trans lifeline. All of them.  Never thought I’d be a resource for someone who just got raped, or some kid who doesn’t feel safe out of the closet.”  Steve looks up at the ceiling.

 

“You’re so good to them,” Nat says.  “I’d say too good, but you’re right. They deserve it.”

 

“What they deserve is someone better than me,” Steve mutters, almost under his breath.  

 

“Now that I don’t follow.”

 

“I’m serious,” Steve says, bringing his hands up as a barrier again.  “I’m not a good person. I cheated. Hell, I’ve killed people…”

 

“But that’s not the part you feel bad about.”  Nat rolls over and props herself up on her elbow.  “Is it?”

 

“No.  I just...can’t get them out of my mind.”

 

“Who?  Like, the dead?”

 

“I wish.”  Steve lets out a bark of a chuckle.  “No. Buck. And, you know. Her.”

 

“Peggy,” Nat sighs.

 

“Yeah.  I should never have talked to her.  Never promised to go dancing. It seemed like a fine thing to do in the moment, but now I’m a century on and wound up with a missed date and a broken heart.”

 

“I’m sure she forgives you--”   
  


“She’s not the one with the broken heart.”

 

“Ah.”  Nat snuggles into the space beneath Steve’s arm.  “Well, I’m sure he forgives you, then.”

 

“He doesn’t even remember,” Steve admits.  “And that’s what’s hard. It would be better if he was mad.  Then we could fight about it and get over it. Maybe laugh about it while we clean up the drywall.”  He hazards a grin.

 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”  Nat smiles back, but her eyes stay serious and downcast.  “You ever think to talk to him about it?”

 

“No,” Steve says quickly.  “Never. I couldn’t.” He appears to grapple with the words.  “I just couldn’t.”

 

“Hm,” Nat hums.  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, then.  We can always, you know, work out more often.”

 

“Why does it sound so dirty when you say it like that?”  Steve wrinkles his nose and pushes back to a sitting position.  

 

“‘Cause that’s the way I am.”  Nat shrugs. “Nothing I can do about it.  And nothing you can do about it, either. Or about you.”

 

“I know,” Steve says, cobbling something together with his 21st century vocabulary.  “I suck.”

 

“Please don’t say that.” Nat hides a laugh behind her hand.  “And I’m not explaining it to you.”

 

“Nah, I can guess.”  Steve makes a remorseful face.  “Don’t tell anybody, ok?”

 

“Of course I won’t,” Nat assures him.  “Some people’s secrets are sacred.”

 

“I appreciate it.”  Steve starts to stand up.  “All of it.”

 

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”  Nat follows his lead and heads off to retrieve the paddle.  “You wanna keep going?”

 

“Yes,” Steve says.  “And yes. I do.” 

  
  



End file.
